


There Is A Light (That Never Goes Out)

by waywardrose



Category: Girls (TV)
Genre: Brief Non-con element, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Femdom, Jealousy, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 21:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20021053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardrose/pseuds/waywardrose
Summary: “Take off your clothes,” he murmured after kissing you. “And crawl to my bed.”





	There Is A Light (That Never Goes Out)

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous #1 asked: Adam Sackler and the J for jealousy prompt. We know he can be a *little* unhinged sometimes...  
> Anonymous #2 asked: Reader x Sackler, featuring [cunnilingus]/face sitting, pretty please! :D
> 
> I hope you two beautiful nonnies don’t mind I combined these prompts and took a little longer to write. I had played with this story idea months ago and had no idea where to take it. It languished—[dramatically puts hand to forehead]—in my WIP folder. Then, boom, you two swoop in with these delicious ideas! Thank you so very much!
> 
> Timeline note: This takes place after the last season. None of the women from Girls are mentioned.
> 
>  **Jealousy** \- _Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?_
> 
> Prompt from the [Fluff Alphabet](https://the-wayward-rose.tumblr.com/post/186447745297/fluff-alphabet)

“Take off your clothes,” he murmured after kissing you. “And crawl to my bed.”

You’d been introduced to Adam Sackler three months ago at a theater-friend’s birthday party. You knew who he was. You’d seen him in a few plays and indie movies. Mostly, you remember him in a short film called _Full Disclosure_. It had been more soft-core porn than anything. Though, there were some poignant parts.

But this didn’t feel poignant. “What?” you asked.

Adam had called you the day after the party to ask you out. He’d been sweet, a little nervous. Truthfully, you’d been jittery as well. You met him at a taco truck the next day for lunch. Together, you’d wandered through Prospect Park with greasy hands and full stomachs. He told you about his sister’s failed home-birth and his little niece everyone called Sample. He’d even shown you the photo album of her on his phone.

“Crawl to my bed,” he repeated.

 _“No.”_ You pushed at him, pissed he would order you like you were cheap Chinese takeaway. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Are you high?”

He barely moved, and his huge hand wrapped around your arm just above the elbow. He pulled you to him. You braced yourself against his chest.

“No, I’m not fucking high. I just want you—”

“Oh, I heard you the first time. We don’t do that shit unless negotiated.”

His face screwed up. “There’s nothing to negotiate. I wanna watch you on your knees. I wanna fuck you on my bed!”

“And I’m saying no!”

He yanked you forward this time, his grip just this side of bruising. You could tell he had every intention of kissing you. You put your hand right over his mouth. He kissed your palm instead, like that was going to make the situation better.

The first kiss with him had been on the bridge above the Hudson Theatre stage during a rear-of-house tour he’d been giving you. That first kiss had been slow and easy and perfectly timed, like he could read your mind. His goatee had tickled a little, and you recalled smiling against his lips.

He’d smiled back as he’d asked you, “What?”

You now stared into his lovely brown eyes. “Why do you want me to crawl?”

He shrugged and mouthed at your palm. You let your hand drop away to rest on his chest. He stared down between your bodies. His nearly black hair curtained the sides of his face.

“Adam,” you whispered. “Do you do this with all your girlfriends?”

He shook his head. “Not all of them.”

“So, most of them.”

He lifted a broad shoulder in half-ass confirmation.

You shook you head at yourself and at him. It had been a long night. You came for the last performance of the play he was in, _A Taste of Honey_ , and had gone to the wrap party with him. Not that you stayed by his side for the whole party. The fawning theatre-groupies had figuratively elbowed you back, and you didn’t want to seem like a neurotic girlfriend. You let him have his fun while you mingled with the other partygoers.

The actor who played “The Boy” in the play had chatted you up. You’d gotten a drink with him. He even shared a plate of hors d'oeuvres with you until Adam had interrupted. The smile he used had been more of a baring of teeth. It had been a tense, weird journey back to his place.

“You know what? I’m going home. We’ll talk tomorrow.” You backed away. “Or whatever.”

He had no right to be jealous. You had only talked to a few actors and set people. And he had left you alone for most of the party, anyway. He’d had his proverbial theatre-dick sucked while he ignored you. Maybe his literal dick sucked too, for all you knew. You didn’t keep track of him.

“Wait a fucking minute. I didn’t do anything wrong!” Adam reached for you again, and you dodged him. “I just asked for what I wanted!”

You pointed a finger at him. “You want to control me.”

He snatched your hand out of the air. You tugged your hand away—or at least tried. Before you could slap him or claw your hand free, he got in close, too close, to get much leverage.

You stomped on his foot with your fancy velvet loafers and fisted his shirt tight around his neck with your free hand. You didn’t think it registered as he put an arm behind your waist to hold you tight and backed you against the wall.

“Don’t go,” he softly said.

You snarled. “How can I when you’ve trapped me?!”

He studied your face, his gaze lingering on your lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

Adam leaned in to kiss you again, but you fisted his tousled hair and wrenched his head back. He gasped and arched against you to relieve the pain. It was like having a wild beast, all hard muscle and predatory urges, clutching at you. In that moment, the air changed. You suddenly felt you could do anything to him.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He was so vulnerable. His skin was silver in the the streetlight coming from the window. You could smell his oatmeal soap. You mouthed the skin at the base of his throat. You could bite him, leave your mark for all to see. Bite him until he bled. Mark him like he wished he could do to you right now.

You dug your teeth around his windpipe, and he moaned. You felt him rock the bulge of his growing erection against your belly. The grip on your wrist loosen.

“You bring me back to this place and order me to my knees,” you said against his throat. “As if you own me.”

His hands went to your hips. “I’m sorry.”

You pulled his hair, and he practically whimpered in need. “How sorry are you?”

 _“Very!_ I’m so sorry!”

“You _are_ sorry,” you agreed. “A sorry, scared little boy who plays at the tough guy.”

In actuality, you thought him quite insightful, funny, mature, and intelligent when he wasn’t losing his temper like a brat. You two had talked the whole first date, which ended after a long ride in one of those pedal boats on the lake. He’d been so enthusiastic about you. He had beamed at you, cheeks pink from the sun, and you’d smiled right back. You had felt yourself falling for him right then.

He’d walked you home after and offered a hug. Just a hug. He made you feel precious and wanted. And _seen_ —for the first time since moving to New York. He’d felt right in your arms and had smelled so nice. And his hair. You could wax poetic about his hair.

In his silence, you continued, “Such a shame. I don’t want that from you. If you’re feeling insecure, tell me. If you want me on my knees, tell me about it. Don’t play stupid games with me.” You released his gorgeous hair and smoothed it back. “I want to be with you, but not like that.”

His eyes were dark pools of emotions, as if the internal floodgates had opened. He seemed on the verge of yelling or sobbing, or both. You didn’t feel much different.

His voice was gruff as he said, “You seem like you’re done with me.”

“I can be mad at you and still want you.”

“You’re not leaving,” he half-stated/half-questioned.

You realized then what he’d been doing: pushing you away. Apparently, he did this with most of his girlfriends. He was sabotaging himself and the relationship, and you couldn’t figure out why exactly.

You shook your head. “Not unless you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Then I won’t.”

There was a delicate hesitancy in his movements as he leaned in to kiss you. You didn’t stop him this time. You held his face and tasted the seltzer water on his tongue. He kissed you with more desperation than you expected. It wasn’t like the fun make-outs on your sofa with his hands kneading your ass, your breasts, in your hair, spreading your thighs. That seemed almost callow in comparison to how he now pressed his body against yours.

Adam pushed a thigh between yours and rubbed himself against you. He was solid and strong and hot. His full lips were soft and felt ready to pout at any second. But he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough.

He ran his hands down your sides and almost pulled you away from the wall to fondle all of you. He rolled his hips and groaned against your mouth. You could feel how hard his cock was.

“I want to fuck you—make you come—all the time,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours as he did. “I watch the way you move. How you navigate in the world. I like your ass.” His big hands squeezed your hips. “And I just…” He swallowed. “I want you to myself.”

You looked at his closed eye lids. “And you want me to crawl to your bed.”

“I think about getting you on your knees and rubbing my cock all over your pretty face.” His hands slithered up your torso to cup the sides of your breasts as he looked into your eyes. “I wanna feed it to you until you’re choking on it.” His hands kept going until they were under your jaw. “I want to fuck your mouth until we’re both dizzy.” He tilted your head back and kissed your chin. “And then I want to push you to the floor and slide right between your tits. I wanna come all over you.”

You grinned, liking that he was finally telling you what he wanted. “We can do that.”

“I want to bend you over the couch arm and spank you until your skin’s all hot and your pussy’s dripping.” He pressed his forehead to yours. _“Fuck_ , I wanna take you like that. Shove you into the couch so you can’t move, finger you, fuck you harder than I’ve ever fucked anyone.”

“All in one session?” you teased and petted the hard slabs of muscle of his lower back.

“Whenever you’d let me.”

You could tell he was getting in a better frame of mind. No longer was he issuing orders. He was talking about permission and mutual satisfaction. You decided then to ask for something you’d like:

“Can I tie you up sometime?”

He nodded and rolled his hips. “Fuck yeah, ride me, scratch me raw, I don’t care. Bite me, _I don’t care.”_

“And you want to be my good boy, don’t you?”

“Only if you’ll be my good girl.”

“That’s not how this conversation is going, Adam,” you warned.

He pouted then. “What do you want?”

“I want you to let go. Trust me.” You leaned into his hands at your throat to offer a kiss. “Just trust me.”

His eyes suddenly swam with tears, and he kissed you. He pushed his fingers into your hair and held you as he sucked at your lip, your tongue. You couldn’t stop the little noises from bubbling out of you at his passion. You held onto him and gave it back, gave yourself to him. You had to be vulnerable if you expected it out of him.

He broke the kiss with a moan and pressed his spit-wet lips to your cheek. “I want you so bad.”

“I want you, too.”

“Let me fuck you. I’ll be good for you.”

You smiled and closed your eyes with a sigh. He was always good for you. He knew how to use his body, his hands, his mouth—that big dick of his. You’d come more times than not with him—which was a first.

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you had a thought. “Take off your clothes and lie in the middle of the bed.”

He straightened to his full height and cradled your face. “Are you going to fuck me?”

“If you do what I ask.”

In silent reply, he stepped away and pulled off his shirt. He kept his eyes on you as he dropped it on the dining table between the windows. It was a nice start. The light bounced off his naked torso, glinted off his shiny hair. It highlighted the angle of his collarbones, the ball of the shoulder joint. The divot going down the center of his sternum was in shadow, and you followed it down to the distended front of his dark jeans.

The sight made your mouth water, but you had to maintain control. You slowly advanced, step by step, and Adam backed away at your pace. Once in the unlit kitchen, he unbuttoned his jeans. With another few steps, he unzipped them.

You knew he wanted you to undo the buttons of your shirt, but he kept silent. Somehow, that made you proud and wanting to reward him, if only a little.

“Touch yourself for me,” you commanded.

He adjusted his cock in his underwear and cupped it. He drew his fingertips up the thick ridge of it. The tip wet the fabric and pulled at the waistband.

As soon as he was in the bedroom, he sat at the edge of the bed and got his boots off. He yanked his socks off next and threw them in the direction of the closet. Normally, you’d tsk and want the mess cleaned up, but it wasn’t the time. He sat there with the orange alleyway light coming in through the dirty windows and waited.

You couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t even make out much of his face, but you felt him studying you.

You leaned a shoulder on the doorjamb. “The rest of it.”

He wiggled out of his jeans and briefs, chucking them with his socks. The front of him was obscured in the dark. He held onto the edge of the bed as his toes curled in the pool of streetlight on the hardwood floor.

“Turn on the light,” you said and nodded to the lamp on the nightstand.

He did as you asked and scooted onto the center of bed, where he stretched out on his back. His pale golden skin was smooth perfection in the soft glow. He had a petite patch of sparse chest hair between his pecs. A blush infused his skin as you looked on.

His cock hardened further, too. There was a fresh, glossy trail of precome on the underside of his rosy erection. You couldn’t wait to tease more out.

You toed off your shoes and slipped out of your slacks. From the corner of your eye you saw Adam wrap his hand around the base of his cock. You straightened and walked to bed, wrinkled shirt-tails hiding your underwear.

“Get your hands off that. It’s only mine to touch.”

He let go and writhed on the bed, legs spreading and hips pushing into the air. “Then fucking touch me.”

“I will when I’m damn well ready.” You put a knee on the mattress. “Hands above your head.”

He obeyed and grabbed the pillow under his head. You crawled close and bent to kiss a gentle line up his chest to his neck. He sighed in pleasure and turned his head for you. His skin was clean and there was the barest trace of stubble near his jaw. You took in his beautiful profile and traced his lips with a finger.

“Why did you want me to crawl?” you whispered in his ear.

He groaned your name and flexed against the bed. You dug your nails into his chest and scratched down his torso. His eyes went wide as he let out this delicious _“ah!”_

You reached his treasure trail and gentled your touch. “Tell me why.”

“I don’t know,” he breathed and shook his head.

You hummed and took hold of his cock. He moaned and shoved his heels into the mattress. His cock was hot in your hand and so hard. The skin was pulled tight. You bet he was ready to blow at any second.

You stroked him once and settled with just holding the wet head in your fist. You watched him struggle and bite his lip and begin to sweat. You played with the glans and sensitive ridge.

“Tell me.”

“I… _Fuck.”_ He squeezed his eyes shut.

You shuffled down the soft bed and got between his long legs. You pushed them farther open and outlined the muscle definition there with your fingers. His inner thighs were smooth and silky.

Adam looked down his body. “What’re you doing?”

Without replying, you leaned forward, bracing yourself on the juncture where his torso met leg, and licked at the trail of precome. His head flopped back with a groan. He was salty and thick on your tongue.

“Tell me,” you repeated.

 _“Fucking Nathan,”_ he spat.

You made an interested noise and placed open-mouthed kisses down the shaft.

“He was— Flirting with you.”

Ah, so that was the man’s name—"The Boy".

“And?”

“He’s a good guy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t want…”

You teased his balls with your tongue before pressing the flat of your tongue over one ovoid. He pushed down to your face and raised his ass a little off the bed. You pulled away then and stared up at him.

 _“Fuck_ , c'mon!” He pulled at the corners of the pillow. “Give me…” He groaned and rubbed the sweat from his upper lip on his bicep.

You almost had him. You hovered over the line of spit and precome on his cock and gently blew a puff of air against it. His reaction was immediate: he thrust up towards your face and growled.

You backed off again and gave him an expectant look.

“I don’t want you to—”

You kissed the thin skin over his hipbones and that hot juncture. You slid your palms over his sides to his flanks. You came so close to the erection laying on his belly, but you never touched it.

“Fuck me, please.”

You hummed and kept peppering kisses over his creamy skin.

“If you don’t fuckin’ fuck me…”

You sat up at his tone and placed your hands on your thighs. It was a punishment, but it also kept you from devouring him. You were keenly aware of how your underwear clung to the wetness gathering in your slit.

 _“Fuck!”_ he bellowed. _“What do you want?”_

“Tell me the truth.”

“I want you to want me like I…” His face screwed up, and he bit at his lip. “I want you to only see me.”

“And what about me?” You toyed with the last button on your shirt. “You ignored me for most of the party.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I don’t give a fuck that you didn’t mean to. Your intentions don’t mean shit.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” He almost lifted himself on an elbow, but thought better of it. Which was good, it meant he was learning. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Oh, you’re gonna alright.” You got on your knees and pulled your underwear down. “I’m gonna fuck your face until I’m satisfied.”

Adam twisted on the bed with a loud moan. His cock visibly throbbed, and your cunt clenched at the sight. Oh, how you wanted to slide down that big dick and use him like it was the best, most realistic dildo.

But no, he hadn’t earned that, had he?

You kicked off your underwear and crawled over him. You sat on his scratched-pink chest with knees spread wide and rubbed your pussy on him. He whimpered and stared at you with dark, sweet eyes.

“I won’t let you go again,” he offered as his hands mangled the pillow under his head. “I won’t get distracted.”

You leaned forward just a touch to grind your clit against him. You let out a soft sigh and rolled your hips. It wouldn’t be out of the question to simply come like this and leave him wanting.

He glanced between your legs and licked his lips. “I can make it up to you. I won’t hurt you. Ever again. I promise.”

“What else?”

He floundered for a second. “I was stupid. I let people—”

“Other. Women,” you corrected.

“–I let _other women_ sidetrack me. From you. You’re the most important to me, I swear.”

“Keep going.”

He made a frustrated noise. “I don’t know what you want.”

“Do you care about me? Do you want me in your life?”

 _“Jesus Christ_ , you have no idea. I learned _fucking Twitter_ just to see what you post every day!”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

He smiled, so beautiful. “God, kid, I am so into you!”

Your heart lurched in your chest, and you shuffled down just so you could kiss him. He made a hungry, desperate sound when your lips met. He leaned up to kiss you harder. He got your mouth open and tasted you and licked you and sucked at your tongue. You almost forgot yourself. His kisses were ravenous and eager, oscillating between honeyed and furious.

You finally pulled away to catch your breath. His panting breath fanned over your lips. You held his face, and he leaned into your touch.

“I’m really into you too, you know,” you murmured.

“Good, now sit on my face.”

You raised an eyebrow at that.

“Please?” he added, cheekily.

“Good boy.” You kissed his nose and told him to scoot down.

With a bit of adjustment, you found yourself hovering over Adam’s blushing, handsome face. You allowed him to hold your ass and support you. It also kept any wandering hands from going to his cock.

His voice was a dark rumble: “Oh shit, yeah. Let me taste that pussy.”

You put your hands on the wall in front of you and slowly lowered yourself. He met you halfway with his tongue. His nose pressed into the mound. And he _moaned_. His tongue was warm and slick as it fluttered, and you cursed under your breath. You both slowly let your weight drop until you were perched on his lower face.

He didn’t seem to mind the pressure at all. He pushed his tongue in deeper, licking languid stripes up your pussy. Each pass over your clit had you jolting. His lips dragged against your slick folds as he urged you to move with his hands.

It started slow and easy. You didn’t want to rush it. His mouth felt too good, his tongue strong, his lips plush, his goatee softly scratching at your inner thighs. He kissed your clit, caressing it to center your pleasure right there. Your legs involuntarily quaked against his ears.

He kept going, kept focusing on your clit. You found your hips rocking against his velvety tongue. He encouraged you to go faster with his hands pushing at your hips and his jaw moving underneath you.

You rested the side of your head against your upper arm and rode his face, driving your pussy over his tongue in a punishing rhythm. You moaned as his nose repeatedly bumped against you. He moaned in reply. Each hard sway of your hips, every lick to your clit, was escalating a deep, straining tension that needed to be released.

You knew that release was coming—and fast.

“You’re gonna make me come,” you groaned. _“So good.”_

In response, he spread his hands over ass and pressed you hard against his mouth. You cried out because you couldn’t stop it. He sucked at your clit, his jaw working beneath you. That growing pleasure sharpened and zinged up your body like lightening. You pushed a hand into his thick hair and fisted it as you fucked his mouth.

Like an increasing crescendo in music, your climax drowned out everything else. It pulsed through you in a surging, devastating beat. Your hips kept hunching forward, stimulating your already alighted nerves. And the orgasm kept going and going until you were about to cry.

You keened and tried to slow, but Adam sucked at your clit again. It was too much, but you were paralyzed by the orgasm he had already given you. The second wave punched you in the chest, and you collapsed against the cool wall. You tried to dig your nails into the plaster, but you couldn’t. You were weakened by pleasure, barely hanging on to your equilibrium.

You felt his fast, needy breath between your legs and realized he was just holding on, too. You let go of his hair and angled your pussy away from his mouth. He groaned with yearning, but let you slump to the side and lie on the bed.

 _“Oh fuck,”_ you gasped and spread a hand on your lower belly under your shirt.

You were quivering, and your cunt was still pulsing with the last traces of orgasm. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You felt sticky and buoyant and wrung out, like you’d just survived an ordeal.

He wrapped a fevered, sweat-damp hand around your calf, which was still on his chest. “That was a pretty good apology,” he commented, his voice scratchy.

You barked out a laugh. “Oh, baby, you’re not done yet.”

His head shot up. “What?”

You dragged your leg out of his loose hold and planted your foot on the bed. “I’m still not full of your come.”

A wolfish smirk spread across his lips. “Oh, fuck yeah…”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://the-wayward-rose.tumblr.com)


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